


To Cheer One on the Tedious Way

by paintingtheroseinred



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, because no fandom is a true fandom without one of those, his dark material au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:10:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintingtheroseinred/pseuds/paintingtheroseinred
Summary: Daemons fights were outlawed, but Ross knew well that if justice was blind, it was to the plight of the poor. No judge would ever rule to protect the common man. If gentlefolks took pleasure in watching the daemons of vagrants battle each other in exchange for a couple of coins, no one would deny them the diversion.Ross and Demelza's first meeting as a His Dark Material AU.





	To Cheer One on the Tedious Way

The air smelt of manure and perspiration, people all around him pressing themselves as they negotiated for the prices of horses and bread. The whole town seemed, at that moment, a cacophony of noises; fishmongers screaming at passerby, children laughing, clients loudly expressing their dissatisfaction. Ross smiled as he made his way through the market. He hadn’t felt this lighthearted in a long time, certainly not since Elizabeth had become Mistress Francis Poldark, perhaps not since he had left for war. By all right, he should be miserable, having sold his father’s watch just a moment before. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to adopt his perpetual frown. Valac walked alongside him, her wolf tail wagging with each of her steps. Her face betrayed none of her excitement however, his daemon was not one for careless displays of emotions.

His return to Cornwall had not gone as he expected. Nothing was turning out the way he had hoped. Still today, he felt his luck might change, if only a little. It was probably foolish of him to think so, but he was determined to enjoy the feeling nonetheless.

He was thinking about what was to be done about the fields, neither Jud nor Prudie would be much help and he needed all the hands he could get, when he felt Valac recoil, a low growl emitting from her throat.

Men and women had gathered in a circle in the middle of the town square. He heard them shout, taking out bets, and his stomach turned at this display of human misery.  
Daemons fights were outlawed, but Ross knew well that if justice was blind, it was to the plight of the poor. No judge would ever rule to protect the common man. If gentlefolks took pleasure in watching the daemons of vagrants battle each other in exchange for a couple of coins, no one would deny them the diversion.

“Barbarians,” Valac all but barked. Few things affronted the daemon’s sensibilities more than these pitiful spectacles. Ross was about to answer her when he heard a scream.

“Stop!” A boy was yelling, running toward the battle. The child looked to be about twelve, all skin and bones, a thick cover of dirt marring his skin. “No! Don’t touch him! Stop! Garrick!”

Ross turned to see a man carrying the child’s daemon, a mongrel dog who was attempting to bite her abductor’s hands with little success. He felt bile come up to his throat at the sight. The idea of anyone touching another’s daemon…

The boy continued to scream, scrambling to get toward the match, but two men grabbed him and barred him from so doing. They continued with their bets as the mongrel was pushed into the fight.

“Stop please! Garrick” The boy pushed his way through, only to hit the ground. People laughed, but not discourage, the child got up to try again, only to be violently swung into the dirt once more. He couldn’t stop what was happening.

His daemon meanwhile was trying to make herself as small a target as possible, her ears were down, her tail between her legs, while the other daemon, a lynx, was circling her. This was no fair fight.

Ross heard Valac growl and watched as she sprang through the crowd to make her way toward the pair. Putting herself in front of the mongrel, Valac bared her teeth, her hackles raised. The lynx stopped in her track, less certain of her odds. The crowd cheered with excitement at this new development.

“This is not your fight.” The lynx scowled. “Wait your turn.”

“You are a disgrace,” Valac spitted back.

Ross could feel her anger growing and knew that this could only end badly. “Enough!” he shouted. Walking toward Valac, he repeated his reprimands “Enough.” But the daemon took no notice of him and continued with her threats.

A man came as if to stop her, but Ross held him by the front of his shirt. “You take my advice, you run.”

“Or else?” the man asked, his eyes murderous, clearly used to bullying his ways through most problems. Ross’ only answer was a swung of his whip. The crowd moved back, shocked. He could hear their cries of outrage.

 _Vultures_ , Ross thought at that moment. _Nothing but vultures._

The lynx chose that moment to slither away, her chances now less than sure, she had no desire to stay. Valac snarled at her retreating back, until the feline became lost in the masses.

Ross turned away from them and put his hand on the boy’s arm who was now huddle next to his daemon. “Have they hurt you child?”

“Don’t ‘ee child me, mister.” The boy held his chin up, but his voice cracked over the words, his eyes beginning to look suspiciously shiny. Ross could feel the weight of the gaze of the crowd around them. The child would not tell him anything with them watching.

“I think we provided enough sport for one day,” he said, turning toward the onlookers, as he felt Valac come to stand next to him. Together, they pushed the child and his daemon towards The Red Lion, people dispersing around them.

“Barbarians,” Valac repeated and Ross was inclined to agree.

Ross quickly paid for the child’s meal and drink. The place was as dark as it usually was and almost full, yet oddly quiet, people only speaking in hushed tone. The boy adjusted the cap on his head as he sat down in a chair, his daemon’s pushing her head in his lap. Both were still shacking, the child discreetly rubbing the underside of his eyes. Without a word, Valac made her way to them. She laid down on the floor of the tavern and observed the pair. The two seemed to recoil under her gaze.

“Valac means you no harm,” Ross said, nodding toward the wolf. He put down the plate and ale in front of the child who looked at him warily. “She only wants to ensure you are well.”

The boy’s only response was a shrug as he dug into his stew with obvious relish.

 _When was the last time he ate?_ Ross wondered.

“Anyone knows this child?” he asked. If the boy was not going to talk to him, he would find out some other way.

The owner of the establishment approached them and with a once over answered “It’s Tom Carne’s daughter from Illugan. She’ll get the strap if he catches her from home and in her brother’s clothes.”

Ross raised his eyebrows at this, as Valac’s stretched up her head, her ears standing at attention.

Taken aback, he bent down slightly to get a better look at the child and the girl grabbed at her plate as if she expected him to take it from her, her daemon growling at him in warning.

“Easy girl. No one will rob you,” he admonished her.

She continued to stare at him. Seeming to deem it safe, she let go of her stew and grabbed her cup to take a swing of ale.

Ross couldn’t help the twitch of pity he felt for her. She was obviously malnourished. A girl her age should have curves and although her brother’s too large clothes hid much of her body to his gaze, it was obvious that there was not much to hide at all.

As he turned to replenish the child’s cup, he found Elizabeth lurking at the entrance of the tavern. She looked lovely as she always did, in a blue velvet gown, her hair perfectly curled, framing her delicate features. Ross felt his heart give a painful squeeze.

Valac slowly walked over to stand in front of him. Her head held high she glared at Mastema, Elizabeth’s daemon, with her usual derision.

The pet, as Valac called him, was currently coiled around Elizabeth’s neck. His little ermine’s head half hidden in her hair, his eyes glancing warily at the pub’s inhabitants.  
It had always disturbed Ross how much his own daemon’s disliked Elizabeth’s. The wolf had always been respectful of Elizabeth and of his love for her, but had made no qualm of informing him of her opinion of Mastema. An irksome, useless, selfish, little pampered pet had been her exact sentiment; a comment which prompted a fight between them so vicious, they hadn’t spoken two words to each other in more than a week afterward.

It had hurt Ross to think that Valac disapproved of his choice of a bride. He had worried about the working of such a marriage, but had believe that his and Elizabeth’s love was strong enough to withstand it. In time, Valac would have seen the justness of it all. Of course, it was all pointless to think of now.

Valac hadn’t openly cheered at the announcement of Elizabeth’s engagement. She had been gentle with him and comforted him as she always did, but he nevertheless could tell that she hadn’t mourned the loss like he did. She was more than likely pleased to know that she would not have to share a roof with Mastema.

“I came to see if the boy was…” Elizabeth said with gentle voice.

The child turned her head in Elizabeth’s direction and her daemon (a male Ross now realised) cocked his head to the side.

“Oh!” Elizabeth seemed to realise that the child was no boy at all.

“Crossdressing!” Ross heard Mastema whisper in Elizabeth’s ear in obvious shock.

“You were right to step in,” Elizabeth said, seeming to recover from her surprise.

“I’m glad you think so.” He found he couldn’t look her in the eyes at this. The sweetness of her heart, the kindness of her praises moved him, and he feared his eyes would betray his true feelings. Valac, feeling his distress, rubbed her head on his legs. He caressed her neck in silent thank.

“I’m sure the child is grateful.”

“I doubt it,” he answered, finally meeting her eyes, just as Francis walked in, his daemon Eblis on his right shoulder.

“Elizabeth!” Francis stepped up behind her and Eblis gave a little thump of her feet, her rabbit’s ears twitching in disapproval at finding a lady in such an establishment.  
The air felt too thick to breathe as they all nodded at each other in silent greeting. It was not until the newlyweds were gone that Ross felt like he could let down his guards again. How could he long for her as he did and yet wish to never again set eyes on her?

“It’s better this way,” Valac said. Ross could only nod, not trusting himself to speak for the moment.

Sighing, he finally cleared his throat and turned back towards the girl. Her shirt had ridden down her back as she ate, and Ross scowled when he saw the clear marks of lashes on her skin.

“They did hurt you.”

The child’s eyes became round with embarrassment as she adjusted her shirt to hide her back. “Not they,” she answered. Her daemon pushed his head close to her belly, as if to offer her protection where she was most vulnerable.

“Then who?”

The girl only mumbled her answer.

“What?” Ross asked.

“Father,” she answered clearly this time. Her little mutt of a daemon snarled. Was the daemon snarling at him or at the girl’s father? Ross could only guess.

“Beats you?” He couldn’t help the note of surprise in his voice.

“Most days.” She shrugged. Ross’ sympathy for the child’s plight only grew. What a miserable wretched thing she was.

“Family?” he pressed on.

“Six brothers,” she said with a nod.

“Do you love your father?” he found himself asking, a plan, for a moment, hatching in his mind, one of which Valac would most certainly disapprove.

“Bible says I must.” The girl mucked snot from her nose with her hand, a sneer forming on her lips. Her daemon’s hackles seemed to raise at that. His head turned to stare defiantly at Valac, as if daring her to comment. His daemon turned her head away to stare at the wooden floorboards.

“What’s your name?” Ross berated himself for asking such a question. It would have been easier if she had remained nameless, but he had never been one for wisdom.  
Again, the child mumbled her answer. She was doing this on purpose, he realised, and Ross found himself grow angry at her ruse.

“Speak up child!”

“Demelza Carne,” she spit back, her eyes nearly burning his. “And this be Garrick.” She pointed at her mongrel.

“Ross Poldark and Valac.” The wolf gave a graceful bow. Garrick answered back with an awkward nod, before once again hiding his face in Demelza’s laps.

Valac’s lips curved in an indulgent smile.

“Befriending the rabble Ross. One would never guess you were a gentleman.” Ross stiffen as he heard the high pitch nasal voice of George Warleggan. The man had made his way to the bar to order himself a drink without Ross’ notice.

“Takes one to know one, I believe George.” He didn’t need to look to know that Bael was barring her teeth at him. The fox could never successful hide any emotion for long. George and his daemon walked away, giving him one last dark look.

George’s childish antics were getting tiresome, but Ross had to admit to taking a certain amount of pleasure in watching his discomfiture. Valac would say he was channeling his anger at the wrong source, but she had always enjoyed getting at Bael. Working George’s daemon into a frenzy, watching her spit and hiss her discontentment had once been his daemon’s favourite pastime, so she had no room from which to speak.

Demelza had finished her plate and was now busy petting her daemon as if to reassure them both of the other’s presence. They had both stopped their trembling. Ross sighed. He had better get them home before dark, if only to spare her her father’s strap. There was nothing else to be done for them. He couldn’t let himself be moved by them. He could scarce afford it.

“Come,” he told them. “I’m taking you home to Illugan.”

The girl looked up at him as if she had forgotten he was even there.

“Go!” he ordered her for which she gave him an angry glare, but in the end, Garrick and her meekly followed him and Valac to the door.

She didn’t speak, even while she struggled to get onto Darkie. She had obviously never ridden a horse before, but he held her fast and soon she became comfortable enough to regal him with a song. Garrick joined her tune and thought the lyrics were hardly appropriate in the mouth of such a young girl, Ross couldn’t help but find the performance charming.

He also couldn’t help but notice the narrowness of her hips and the angry red marks peeking out from under her collar. In the light of day, he could also detect a few bite marks on Garrick. He now wondered at their source. Was it from the earlier fight or was her father’s daemon responsible?

 _What will happen to them?_ He wondered. Did it even matter? They were not his to worry about and he had already too many mouths to feed, too many people to look after. The mutts were not for him to care for.

And yet if he did not care for them, who would?

His thoughts would not settle and no easy answer had come to him by the time they had reached the crossroad.

“Illugan’s that way.” He pointed the road on their right to her.

Demelza hopped off Darkie and gave him a sincere “Thank you, sir.” A small smile playing on her lips. The first hint of gentleness he had seen from her. He nodded to her and watched as she made her way home, continuing with her singing, Garrick following in her footsteps.

 _What will happen to them?_ The thought wouldn’t leave him be. _What will happen to them?_

“I’m in need of a kitchen maid.” The words were out of his mouth, before he could stop them. Valac shook her head at him as he knew she would. Demelza and Garrick stopped in their track to look at him. “You’ll get food, lodging, proper clothing. I want someone strong for the work is hard.”

“How far?” she asked with a frown.

“Too far to run home,” he answered and watched her hesitate. “But perhaps you don’t wish to come.”

She looked down at Garrick seeking his thoughts. “It’d be better than home, that’s for certain,” the daemon stated with a nod. She nodded back, a smile dancing on her face. She leapt back unto Darkie and into his arms, nearly tripping over a rock in her excitement.

Ross heard Valac sigh her disapproval. He knew she would give him an earful when they returned home, and she would not be wrong. She rarely was, he had to admit. She was by far the most sensible of them both. It was true that they had barely enough to eat between themselves. They couldn’t afford to keep Demelza and Garrick. His daemon would grumble at his sentimentality, his lack of reservation, they would fight, and she would be right.

Ross felt something claw at his stomach. He had just added another worry to his already growing pile.

Demelza, for her part, seemed to have overcome her earlier excitement. She had since become stiff against him, her singing had stopped, her eyes had doubled in size, her mouth held slightly ajar. If it wasn’t for Garrick frolicking and jumping through the air, next to them, he would be worried that they came to him unwilling.

Valac walked on next to the mongrel, Demelza’s daemon’s clear joy seeming to further infuriate her.

“Pups,” he heard her mutter under her breath.

As they made their way to Nampara, Ross saw Jud and Prudie approach them, Tabitha Bethia asleep on Jud’s shoulders as she usually was.

“Who we have here?’ asked Prudie sounding peeved.

“This is Demelza. She’s to help in the kitchen,” he answered with more confidence than he felt, as he stepped down Darkie and helped Demelza do the same.

“Taking on brats! Before you know it, there’ll be no end of trouble,” Jud commented. At this, Tabitha Bethia cracked one of her eyes open and stretched out one clawed paw in Demelza’s direction.

Valac shook her head with irritation, giving a small bark. Tabitha Bethia jumped up at the sound.

“See to the horse,’ Ross gave his orders and walked toward the pump, Garrick following him closely, his tail wagging back and forth.

“She’d be seizing with crawlers,” Prudie hissed, hands on her hips, Tannin adding an approving quack next to her.

“Not if I give her the same treatment I gave you,” Ross retorted. His servants both grimaced at his answer.

Jud and Tabitha Bethia started with their usual litany of grievances. “It ain’t right, it ain’t fair…” But Ross paid them no more mind. They would get used to Demelza or they would find some other employ. He wouldn’t mind the latter.

As they approached the pump, he directed Demelza to bend her head underneath it, while he took off her cap to reveal a mass of dirty red curls. It would take days of regular bathing to get rid of all that grime. Ross worked the pump and the girl screamed as the cold water hit her head, but she offered no other protest.

Valac grabbed Garrick by the scruff of the neck and began to lick the mutt clean, gently nibbling the crawlers out with her teeth. The mutt laid still as she completed her grooming.

“You work for me you must be clean, you understand?” Ross roughly worked the water through Demelza’s hair. “No lice.”

“Yes sir,” she answered, the cold making her sound short of breath.

“Ain’t no fittle for her,” Prudie came to complain.

“Find some,” he told her.

While they spoke, Ross could see Tannin from the corner of his eye, as the daemon wobbled his way toward Garrick’s tail. The ugly old duck attempted to peck at the dog with his beak, only to find himself caught between Valac’s claws.

“Scarce feed ourselves,” Prudie continued as if he had not spoken. “How are you gonna feed another beside?”

“Leave that to me,” Ross retorted, noticing that Demelza’s hair was starting to feel a bit less coarse under his hand.

Prudie grumbled some more as he sent her to find a clean cloth for the girl to dry herself, Tannin running scared beside her.

Ross still had no idea how he was going to manage to feed all of them, but as a now much cleaner Demelza turned to look up at him with her big green eyes, he knew he had no choice, but to find a way.

“Pups,” Valac mumbled once again as Garrick turned over to offer her his belly.

They’d find a way. They had to.


End file.
